Codes And Keys

Not to do Ben Gibbard a disservice, but it’s difficult to disassociate the word ‘angst’ from his work to date. Now happily married, however, it appears the DCFC frontman has finally found his smile.
Where Codes And Keys is concerned, his happiness raises an interesting question namely: just what does an upbeat Death Cab sound like? The answer, sadly, is pretty damn tame.
Opening track ‘Home Is A Fire’ proves a false dawn with its Postal Service-esque treated vocals and jazzy processed drums. An intriguing opener, it gives way to a collection of straightforward and unambitious songs.
There are nice ideas here, from the vaudevillian piano on ‘Portable Television’ to the infectious stomp of ‘Doors Unlocked And Open’, but the latter a perfect microcosm of the album: pleasant, inoffensive and wafer-thin.
Elsewhere, ‘Unobstructed Views’ has ambition but lacks character. A meandering mix of piano and subtle synths, it constantly threatens to crescendo before simply fading out, resembling little more than a confused interlude.
‘Monday Morning’ is as routine as its title suggests. A love letter to his wife, dripping in cloying sentiment, Gibbard proclaims “She loves the natural light/ Captured in black and white” over a feather-light drum and guitar arrangement. Album closer ‘Stay Young, Go Dancing’ finds him in further joyous mood. “When she sings, I hear a symphony,” he gushes, a far cry from a man who once sang that love was “watching someone die”.
Personal progression is to be admired, but Gibbard’s about-face comes at the expense of his band. Stripped of melancholy, Death Cab cut a curious figure. Ultimately, Codes And Keys is the sound of a band content not to take risks. And while that might be a sensible approach, it’s not an especially interesting one.